


Interrupted

by vix_spes



Series: Cadence [1]
Category: Coco Chanel & Igor Stravinsky (2009), Deadline Gallipoli (TV), Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom
Genre: First Meetings, Hannibal Extended Universe, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 05:27:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14013171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vix_spes/pseuds/vix_spes
Summary: In need of diversion, Ellis Ashmead-Bartlett wends his way to Paris where he finds someone to intrigue him.





	Interrupted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [carolinelamb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolinelamb/gifts).



> Written for a headcanon/prompt I was given on Twitter.

So far, Paris hadn’t really proven to be the distraction that Ellis had hoped it would be. He had been returning from Hungary after a brief stint involved in the war against the Bolsheviks and, not really fancying heading straight back to London, had diverted to Paris.

It had been four years since he had really spent any time in London, being something of a persona non-grata in high society after his outspoken criticism of the officer class and the role that he had played in the return of Lord Hamilton from the Dardanelles. Instead, he had had a brief sojourn in the States before an extended book tour in Australia and New Zealand, after which he had found himself in Hungary.

Whilst it was nothing like he had seen in the Dardanelles and at Gallipoli, Ellis had seen enough of war and needed a distraction, one that Paris was more than capable of providing. At least, pre-war Paris would have been. So far, Ellis had found nothing to hold his attention. He had been to his usual haunts in Montmartre, eaten in the best restaurants, attended several dull dinner parties and an only somewhat tedious drinks reception at the Australian Embassy, but none of them had provided the diversion that he truly craved. There had only been one interaction of note that had piqued Ellis’ attention.

As was expected of anyone who was anyone, he had attended a performance of the ballet at the Opera Garnier that had been particularly diverting whilst he was sat in the theatre and he’d bedded a rather charming red-headed member of the corps, but that hadn’t been the most memorable part of the evening. No, that title belonged to the briefest of encounters that he had had at the stage door.

He had been heading inside to collect his date for the evening – had her name been Lucille, he wasn’t sure – when he had all but walked into another gentleman just exiting the theatre. Ellis had apologised in flawless French, eyes sweeping over the other man as he did so. Impeccably dressed, in what was quite clearly a suit by one of the best tailors in Paris, the man was undeniably handsome. Slicked back dark hair, eyes that were just as dark, a well-groomed moustache and the sharpest cheekbones that Ellis had ever seen. He also had a furious scowl on his face and was arguing with a companion in a harsh guttural language that Ellis had a passing familiarity with. A discrete question and surreptitious handful of franc notes had garnered the knowledge that the man in question was the famed Russian composer Stravinsky.

Igor Stravinsky.

Ellis had heard of him, of course. Who hadn’t? Riot at the Rite, the events of the Paris premiere had made the headlines in London and Ellis had obtained a ticket to the London premiere, only to be disappointed when London didn’t respond as the Parisians had. One reviewed had even had the temerity to suggest that, if Stravinsky had really wanted to sound primitive, he should have done away with the orchestra and just used drums. There had been no sign of the composer in London, just of Nijinsky the choreographer, and Ellis had later discovered that the man himself was in hospital in Paris suffering from food poisoning.

Inside the theatre, all the talk revolved around the fact that Rite was once again scheduled to be performed but this time with new choreography by Léonide Massine. Ellis immediately made plans to arrange for a ticket, utterly intrigued by the man.

~*~

In the end, Ellis didn’t have to wait until the performance. Through his vague acquaintance with Ernest Hemingway whom he had met in New York during his brief sojourn, he was invited to a dinner party at the home of the Princesse de Polignac, where the guests were the crème de la crème of Parisian society as well as numerous members of the American expatriate population. The salon was positively bursting with people, far too many to be able to see everyone, but Ellis managed to speak to his hostess as well as catching sight of Hemingway and several other recognisable faces. What was also apparent was the tension between a small knot of very intense, Slavic looking gentlemen and a rather glamourous lady in white reclined on a chaise-longue.

Curious, but not wanting to get embroiled in anything at this particular moment, Ellis headed for the balcony in dire need of a cigarette. The December air was chilly, so he didn’t waste any time in fishing his cigarette case out of his jacket and slipping one in between his lips, only to curse when he patted his pockets and discovered that he’d come out without any matches. He was just about to head back inside and beg some matches off one of the other guests when a hand touched his arm.

Managing to only flinch slightly – he hadn’t realised that he wasn’t alone on the balcony – Ellis heard a match being struck and held out, cupped in long fingers so that it didn’t extinguish. Leaning in to light his cigarette, Ellis looked up to see a man only slightly taller than him with sharp cheekbones and dark, intense eyes that Ellis had seen before.

Stravinsky.

Just as Ellis took a breath and prepared to speak, he heard the click of the balcony doors opening behind him and an uttered “Igor” followed by a staccato burst of Russian that he just about grasped the meaning of. Looking towards his companion, now that he could see him in the pale light spilling from the open door, Ellis fancied that he could see a bit of regret in those dark eyes as Stravinsky gave a short, sharp bow and disappeared with his compatriot.

Left alone, Ellis took an almost angry drag of his cigarette as he cursed quietly. Foiled by the interruption, it looked as though Ellis was going to have to wait for the performance and hope that he could see Stravinsky there.

**Author's Note:**

> If you would prefer to comment on DW, you can do so [here](https://vix-spes.dreamwidth.org/299034.html)
> 
> If you would like to share the post on Tumblr, it's [here](http://vix-spes.tumblr.com/post/172001706725/interrupted-vixspes-hannibal-extended)


End file.
